


The Most Utter Madness

by sweetfallacy



Series: A Find in a Thousand [8]
Category: Maurice - Forster
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetfallacy/pseuds/sweetfallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After discovering her brother's secret, Kitty confronts Clive. (A sequel to <i>A Terrific Scandal</i>, but can also stand alone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Utter Madness

**Author's Note:**

> A sharp eye can pick up the couple phrases from the script, including deleted scenes.

The last time Kitty had dined with Mr. Durham, he'd been quite charming and invited grand topics of conversation at the table. However, tonight he seemed disquieted, only speaking to his guest enough not to be impolite. They had gone through two courses with Clive steadfastly not making eye contact and his wife earnestly avoiding the topic of Maurice. Despite her valiant efforts, there was only so long two women could volley half-hearted remarks on the weather and beauty of Penge.

"Oh Miss Hall, I'm so sorry that we were unable to have you before dinner. Clive really hasn't been feeling like himself. His mother and sister have sought refuge at Archie London's in the meantime," said his wife, Anne Durham. Genuine contrition was evident in her eyes even as she tried to make light of her husband's standoffish mood.

"I understand perfectly. Nothing's been the same at home since Maurice's disappearance and we're all feeling a bit unlike ourselves. The past few days have been rather unbearable."

Clive winced at the first mention of her brother, but perked up all the same. "You haven't heard from him then?"

"Unfortunately not. We had hoped that the wire we received in his name would be of help. Though it arrived the very day he went missing, Mother hadn't opened it until just yesterday - hoping that we'd hear from Maurice first - but it revealed nothing."

"Oh? Who was it from?" inquired Clive, looking at a spot somewhere over Kitty's left shoulder. It pleased her to see him so clearly unnerved by her presence. After all, she'd never taken an interest in Pendersleigh before. Why choose to intrude now?

"A fellow by the name of Scudder," she answered, watching the gentleman for recognition of the name. "Do you know him?"

"Scudder?" said Anne, surprise ringing in her tone. "Could that be our gamekeeper? I wonder what business he'd have wiring Mr. Hall."

"Perhaps to apologize for how poorly he treated the man," responded Clive. Then more quietly, "Refusing his tips and making a general nuisance of himself."

Kitty ignored her host's grumbling in favor of this new revelation of the mystery writer's identity. "Gamekeeper?"

"Well, not anymore," said Anne. "He left for the Argentine last Saturday."

"Saturday?" Kitty smiled, not truly caring how unconvincing it looked. "What a coincidence..."

Quite suddenly, Clive pushed out his chair--"Kitty, could I speak to you for a moment?"--and stalked out. He looked more lively than he had all evening, though none too happy to be interrupting their meal. When Kitty followed him into the adjacent room, he didn't bother to offer a seat, but immediately moved to close the doors behind her.

"You don't think Scudder had anything to do--"

"I do--" interrupted Kitty, jutting out her chin in challenge, "unless you can tell me otherwise, Mr. Durham."

"He didn't kidnap your brother, if that's what you're asking."

"Now how can you know that unless you've heard from Morrie?"

"I've already told your mother that Maurice didn't tell me where he went."

"But you've seen him," Kitty pressed, daring him to contradict her with a fierce look. When Clive failed to respond, she felt a surge of elation. "I came here because I wanted to speak to you about your relation with Maurice."

"Relation? We've been good friends since Cambridge, but you knew that," he answered easily. "What are you getting at, Kitty?"

"Clive, I know about the letters."

"Letters?"

"Yes," she said, knowing she had his undivided attention. She'd hoped that the gentleman would be a little more forthcoming, but his hedging was to be expected in such matters. Perhaps now he'd acknowledge what they both knew to be true. "The ones you wrote to Morrie til last year."

"Did he-- What did he tell you?"

"Nothing. He kept them hidden in his room."

"Now Kitty," he pointed a stern finger at her, but the effect was ruined by the flush on his cheeks. "I don't think he'd like you looking through his things."

"Something tells me he won't be coming back to find out any time soon," Kitty rolled her eyes expansively, tired of this endless posturing. "And don't think I don't know what you're trying to do. Please, tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"You must know _something_."

"What makes you think I would know anything?"

"At one point or another, you were in love with him and he was in love with you. I know it!"

"Now look, I care for Maurice a little bit, but we didn't--"

"A little bit, I do say!"

Clive blinked in astonishment at the unwitting echo of Maurice's words, but it was quickly replaced by a deep frown. Before he regained his mental footing, Kitty plowed on, "You don't say the kind of things you wrote for someone you care for just a little bit."

"Kitty, please," he implored. "Anne is just in the other room. I won't have her hearing a thing about this."

"You loved him. You _saw_ him."

"Yes. Yes, I saw him. He told me that he's in love with Alec Scudder and nothing more. I don't see why he's pursuing with this obsession anyway. This is all the most utter madness!"

Kitty could have crowed with triumph. Her theory had been correct after all. Turned out of Mr. Durham's affections, Maurice had run away with another man. A _gamekeeper,_ to add insult to injury. Kitty had no idea how he could have acted so patronizing to his family only to run off to Argentina with an underprivileged boy of the working class.

"Anne will want you to stay the night, but I'll ask you not to mention a word of this to her. Not the letters or... Scudder."

She hesitated, wanting to know more, but unsure if it was wise. Kitty could threaten to bring the letters out into public, but that would expose her brother in turn and their family would be shunned. Damn Maurice for leaving them to deal with this muddle.

"Kitty, you won't mention this again."

"I won't say anything."

"And the letters?"

"Don't worry, I've already taken care of it," she assured him. Clive didn't have to know that she had kept them for herself. It could hardly matter since Kitty had been the one to find them in the first place and had every intention of keeping them safe. Even if Maurice didn't deserve her efforts.

As he had turned to leave, her host hesitated with his palm resting flat on the door. His head bowed low and the lines of his shoulders drooped as if weighted by a great burden, "I'm sorry about your brother... but maybe it's for the best that he's gone."

On that final note, Clive absconded into the dining room, but the unsaid words _"we should all move on"_ hung heavily in his place.

 

**More Author's Notes:**  
Anne: *stands* Clive?  
Clive: Everything's all right, darling. *reclaims his seat* Just clearing up a small misunderstanding.


End file.
